


no patron saint of silent restraint

by crownsandbirds



Category: Dr. STONE (Anime), Dr. STONE (Manga)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Making Out, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:01:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21618034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crownsandbirds/pseuds/crownsandbirds
Summary: "You're rude and stupid and fucking insufferable, and you're neveraround-""Aww," Gen drawls, licks for a second at Senku's lips. "I wish I could be here for you more, my dear.""Then whyaren'tyou?"It's childish, and irritated, and it makes Gen smile."Oh, love," he says, soothingly, threading his fingers through Senku's hair. "Someonehas to keep you guessing."Senku and Gen and all the ways in which they understand each other.
Relationships: Asagiri Gen/Ishigami Senkuu
Comments: 14
Kudos: 460





	no patron saint of silent restraint

The first time they kiss, Gen is shoved up against the wall of the observatory, and Senku is pressing their lips together with all the eager haste that comes with absolute inexperience. It's obvious from the way he moves and frowns that he has no idea what he's doing - still, his arms are wrapped around Gen's neck, and his body is arched up and melding beautifully to fit to the shape of Gen's own, and there's such an endearing, aching  _ sweetness _ to the moment. 

Gen has done so many things during his life. Has had so many things done to him. He kisses with his eyes closed, with a greedy tongue, with his sharp fangs for teeth. Normally, he doesn't kiss: he devours, feeds on other people's blood and desire for him, allows them to take his body and licks up the dignity and control that trickles down their chins and swallows all of it straight to his throat and lungs. Sex is power for him, has been for years - ever since the first time he was laid down on a bed by someone else's arms, he has, over and over again, taken power for himself through people's basest, rawest urges. He knows how to make himself wanted, how to make himself into something desperately needed. He has done much he wouldn't be proud of if he were a different man, maybe, a different person - as it is, it's part of what makes him what he is. He's a mentalist, he's sharp, he's shrewd. Whore, he's been called. Slut. Demon. Devil. The sinuous curve of his waist and the soft give of his thighs are him as much as his killer sharp eyes, his greedy mind and his mismatched strands of hair. 

And still, when Senku arches up closer to him, when he whines softly as soon as Gen's arms wrap around his narrow waist and tug him firmly, he feels like he's having his first kiss all over again. 

But that's just what Senku does, he ponders while gently caressing Senku's hips with his thumbs. Makes himself into pure wonder. Gen can feel stars pooling on top of his tongue, silver bright and beautiful. 

"You've never done this before, have you?" he inquires as softly as he can as he pushes Senku back somewhat so they can both catch their breaths. 

As immediate response, as certain and quick as a chemical reaction, Senku blushes so prettily it looks like fairy dust and makes Gen want to lick his cheek and bite him. "No," he admits in a flustered whisper, takes half a step away from Gen as if his mind has finally caught up to his body - for the first time in the entirety of the months they've spent together, Senku actually  _ looks _ 16 and unsure and flushed with embarrassmant and afterthoughts of yearning he doesn't seem to know how deal with, and Gen  _smiles_. 

"It's okay, Senku-chan," he purrs, pulls Senku sharply against his chest again and delights in the warm little gasp it earns him. " _ I'll _ teach  _ you _ something new, this time around." 

He squares his bare feet down on the floor of the observatory, twists - like this, he has Senku pressed against the wall instead, lips parted in soft heat and his cheeks beautifully pink, his gorgeous red irises glowing like small stars of their own. 

"So  _ pretty _ ," Gen drawls, fits his thigh in between Senku's legs; Senku whimpers, and he's shivering a little where he's grasping desperately at Gen's shoulders. 

"Don't - don't say that," Senku protests weakly, even as his hips are bucking up slightly, the heat between his legs pleasantly warm and damp against Gen's skin. 

"It's true," Gen remarks as he touches his lips to the delicate curve of Senku's jaw, trailing up, down, just to let him savor the contact, to teach him what it means to _touch_ and be _touched_ , what it means to let your body become yours as it becomes someone else's. "Prettiest boy I've ever seen. Haven't been able to stop looking at you since we met. So gorgeous." 

Senku swallows dry, shivers. "Gen -"

"You're such a quick learner, Senku-chan," Gen trails his lips up, lets them skim the delicious warmth of Senku's own. "Relax, and  _ learn _ ." 

-

Asagiri Gen is here, there, nowhere and back again, and Senku  _ hates _ it. 

Most of the time, he keeps track of where everyone is at the Ishigami Village. Some are easier than others - Chrome is usually keeping up with him, clinging to the hem of his clothes like a particularly devoted puppy who likes exploring. Senku just needs to glance to his side to know where he is. Suika comes and goes, but she's enthralled by the things they create, and she loves to help, and it's relatively simple to figure out where she is if she's needed. Kinrou and Ginrou stick to the entrance of the bridge more often than not, Ruri spends most of her time in the village, and Kohaku has an unconscious need to keep everyone she cares about in her immediate line of sight, so she's normally where everyone else is. 

It's reassuring. He does his usual headcount every night before going to bed. He's kept this habit ever since he woke Taiju and Yuzuriha up, ever since he lost Byakuya, since before. Since when he was alone after his awakening, impossibly lonely under the endless span of the night sky, and he'd glance up at the stars and point at them and whisper, "There you are." 

It's the only kind of emotional comfort he allows himself in this stone world - knowing where everyone is, knowing how to find them if he needs them or if they need him. 

Asagiri Gen doesn't follow any logical pattern, and it drives Senku  _ crazy _ . 

Some days, he'll waltz around the laboratory, poking at everything and making comments and being a bother; and Senku would adapt to that, would figure out how to work around Gen's insufferable existence - except then, a week later, Gen will disappear from their immediate range, and can be found spending long hours in the village, making idle chat with the elderly and playing around with the children. And Senku wouldn't complain if that were the case; but sometimes, Gen vanishes altogether, for two or three days, and return from the forest together with the cold morning mist, with wild flowers hanging through the longer threads of his hair and a mysterious fox smile clinging to his lips. 

Senku would adapt to even that, if he could, would compare Gen to a particularly hard to handle electron in a wave-particle limbo of uncertainty, and let him and his cat-like pace climb all around the walls of a metaphorical Schrodinger's box; but when he  is around, he sticks to a strangely methodical routine. He undoes the complicated laces of his robes in the same order, folds his clothes in the same manner, goes to sleep curled with his back against the wall and his hands in front of his body. He goes to bed at the same time every single night, and wakes up at the heretically early crack of dawn, so that he's already beautifully put together while everyone is rubbing sleep off their eyes. Senku could fit a clock to his routine, could keep track of the hours in a day comparing them to Gen's habits - and then Gen kisses him and leaves  _ again _ , and Senku detests it so much it's  _ distracting _ . 

Senku hates being distracted. 

"Fucking asshole," he snarls against Gen's lips, ignores the shudder that runs down his spine when Gen pushes his skirt up to keep it pooled around his hips. It's too cold outside, way too damn early; his skin is riddled with goosebumps, and his teeth are chattering slightly, but Gen came back this morning from god knows where, and his body feels as warm as a fever against Senku. 

Gen chuckles. It's so sticky sweet Senku can almost bite it in half. "You have such a filthy, delicious tongue, Senku-chan. I'd missed it."

"Shut the fuck up," Senku growls, but Gen is already lowering himself down to press their chests and hips together, and Senku gasps, and Gen touches a self-satisfied smirk to the sensitive, fragile skin of his neck. 

"You're feisty today," Gen comments, thumb caressing idle circles on the inner softness of Senku's naked thighs. "Why is that, my little genius?"

Senku grits his teeth. "Don't call me that."

"Why, because  _ he _ called you that? If it makes you feel better, you  _ can _ call me d-" 

Senku kicks him in the guts, and it actually hurts. 

"Sorry, sweetheart," Gen wheezes, painfully trying to catch his breath. "You're fun to tease."

"I hate you," Senku says, and he sounds like he genuinely means it, like his desire is only comprehensible for his mind through displeasure. "You're rude and stupid and fucking insufferable, and you're never  _ around _ -" 

"Aww," Gen drawls, licks for a second at Senku's lips, savors the pleasant coldness lingering in them. "I wish I could be here for you more, my dear."

"Then why  aren't you?" 

It's childish, and irritated, and it makes Gen smile. 

"Oh, love," he says, soothingly, threading his fingers through Senku's hair. " _ Someone _ has to keep you guessing." 

-

"So," Senku starts, clears his throat. They're alone in the laboratory for a moment, Chrome having left to grab something or other - and Gen is perched up on the thick glass table, kicking the air idly, head tilted as he watches Senku's hands work. 

He tilts his head to the other side, waits. When Senku keeps his eyes fixed to the glassware held tight in his hands, Gen sighs, and gives in. "So?"

"How was the cola?" Senku asks, sounding almost sheepish about it. It's adorable.

"Delicious," Gen answers, lets the curling sultry curves of the word drip down from his tongue. "Not as delicious as you, though."

Senku blushes immediately, cheeks colored a delightful pink. "Shut up." 

"It's true -" Gen says with a leer, and thinks that's the end of that - but Senku is lifting a becker up against the sunlight streaming through the front door, and eyeing it with the gorgeously focused look he has on his face sometimes, and he comments, "I could make more."

"Excuse me, I didn't quite catch that," Gen sing-songs. "What was that?" 

"You heard me, you bastard. I could make more. It's not hard." 

Gen hums, leans back on his hands. "I love everything you make, Senku-chan."

-

"Why is your hair half white?" Senku asks one day as they watch over the artisanal production. It's a painfully hot day, and Senku is slower, his words slurring together a little. "I remember it being all black back in the day." 

Gen laughs. "Of course you'd remember my hair color from 3700 years ago."

Senku shrugs. "Didn't have much to do other than think while I was petrified. I remember a lot."

Gen turns his face up to the immensely blue span of sky and light above them. The sky never used to look this beautiful  _ back in the day _ _._ Or maybe Gen just never stopped to look at it. 

"Well," Gen says, licks the sweat from his upper lip with the tip of his tongue. "You know that thing about how hair can turn white due to extreme stress? That was it, more or less. A bit before the green light and the whole turning-into-stone jazz."

When Gen lowers his gaze again, Senku is staring at him in absolute disbelief. "Impossible," he says, "Not that much, not that obviously, not to that  _ extent _ -" 

Gen smiles. He could say he’s lying, smooth his voice into the teasing, fake tone he’s used to irritate Senku so many times before. It’d be easy, he considers. Routine. Senku has no patience or skill for mind games - he’d curse at Gen and drop the subject and never mention it again. 

"Tell me about your father one day," Gen says instead, curling one long strand of his hair around his finger, tugging a little, "and I'll tell you about it." 

For a second, they stare at each other, movements stalled, words trapped in their throats. For a second, there's complete comprehension. 

It's the first time Gen feels seen in his entire life. 

-

Gen notices it as soon as Senku leaves the sleeping bag and tiptoes out of the room. 

He's a pathologically light sleeper; he had to be, considering the people he used to spend his time with, and some habits aren't beaten out of you, not even with over three-thousand years. He jolts awake as soon as Senku shifts himself upright, but keeps his eyes closed until he's sure the other's left - and only then does he sit up from his own bag, and rubs exhaustion out of his eyes. He steps over Chrome's sprawled limbs, fits his robes around himself. The walk to the observatory is slow, his body still lingering with tiredness, but he figures it's fine. It'll give Senku more alone time, and Gen more time to think about what to say. 

When he arrives, Senku is curled up on the floor next to the telescope, his arms wrapped tight around his drawn-up knees, his shoulders shaking with sobs. 

It breaks whatever shards are left of Gen's heart inside the delicate bird bones of his ribcage.

He doesn't say anything. He stands there, and waits. 

After a while, Senku draws in a shuddering breath. "Sometimes," he says, in an almost hidden whisper, "it hurts too much to look at it."

Gen takes a couple of steps closer, and sits down, legs crossed in front of Senku's huddled up form. Like this, he looks small, fragile. 

"I like to use it," Senku continues, voice rough from crying. He has yet to lift his face from where it's buried between his knees. "I love it. It's - god. I love it. I really do. But sometimes it reminds me so fucking much of him and I don't know what to do with myself. I feel stupid. I hate feeling stupid, Gen."

Gen still says nothing. He crawls closer to Senku and touches the very tips of his fingers to Senku's force-white knuckles. 

Senku cries. Desperately, painfully, a lost child, a broken existence. "He promised he'd come back," he whimpers. "He promised. He said he was gonna bring a bunch of stuff for me. He said he'd tell me all about it. I'd planned a dumb welcome home party for him. I was gonna, fuck, I don't know, gonna make his favorite food and clean the house and show him all my new projects. I was gonna just fucking  hug him. Just hug him. Bastard gave the best hugs. There was no one in the world better than him. I just -" and his voice shatters again, a glass thrown to the floor, a pulsing, bloody wound. "I just wanted to tell him I love him." 

"He knew," Gen says. He has nothing else to say. He tightens his hold around Senku's cold hand. "He knew you loved him. Love." 

"Thank you -" Senku sobs, breath stuttered. "Thank you for the telescope. It makes it feel - it makes me feel closer. To him. Somehow, damn, I don't know -"

When Senku uncurls from his position, Gen moves to hold him, and lets him cry himself to sleep. 

-

_Do you remember the smartphones?_

_God, I miss Twitter. The stupidest things. Putting NASA's photos as my lockscreen. Remember air conditioners?_

_I'd kill for a pillow. A real pillow. I used to stay in these amazing hotels -_

_I don't even remember what it's like to ride a goddamn car anymore._

_Planes. Fucking planes. Airports. Fuck, the Heathrow Airport was an entire city. The Times Square at 1 in the morning. You ever seen it in person, Senku-chan? It'd make you cry. My bed, when I got home. My blanket. All the drafts of the books I wanted to publish, some real novels, you know. Fucking miss ecstasy,_ _not that you ever tried it, but I miss it so much. The habit of putting my phone to charge, of opening the front door with keys._

_My room_ , Senku says when he's feeling lonelier, the type of lonely Gen can't kiss out of him.  _My laboratory. My books. My computer. All my projects. The stupid family pictures that were really just the two of us and that Byakuya liked so damn much. The coffeemaker that broke every single goddamn month and that I could never fucking fix for some reason._

His lower lip trembles.  _My first rocket. My telescope. My father._

Gen holds him, threads his fingers through his hair, shushes him. _I miss the streetlights, Senku-chan. I miss the highways. But I have no one to miss._

"I'll build it all again," Senku whispers fiercely. "From scratch, if that's what it takes. I'll build every single inch of it again."

Gen believes him. 

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this on my phone during a 22-hour long bus trip, so forgive any mistakes. and i promise one day i'll write the Trauma Fic for gen, because i do think he's very traumatized in many ways.


End file.
